A Matter of Trust
by Red - Eyed - Raven 93
Summary: Shepard has no idea why Joker decided to sign up for Cerberus; nor even comprehend TIM's idea of putting the man, who indirectly caused her death, in charge of the ship she's actually boarding. Joker, on the other hand, is not sure if he can trust the "unaltered-Shepard" statement. But as always, they have no choice but to deal with it. F!Shep/Joker
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect and its characters.**

**NOTE: This fic was formerly entitled as "Nostalgia". I changed it because, well, because I changed it... hehehehe... so there, just saying. :)**

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><p><strong><em>A Matter of Trust<em>**

**Prologue:**

**Tempting Offers**

"Screw you, idiot— I'm not buying your damn offer!"

Joker couldn't believe that he had the balls to say that while being in danger of getting shot. Perhaps the cause was his mouth always acted a little bit faster before his brain could react. But for this time, he was sure that his brain completely agreed to what his mouth had said. There was no way in hell he would work for—and with— the bad guys. Cerberus was bad: that was a universal fact. And nothing they could give to him that could change his mind.

The Cerberus operative shook his head and sat at the edge of the counter. "And what will you do here, Mr. Moreau?" he calmly asked as if he hadn't heard his reply, "The Alliance has got you grounded—"

"—for _very_ vague reasons..," Joker added.

"But still, you will not be able to fly _any_ ship," the operative said, obviously getting irritated, "And we both know how much you value flying a starship through the galaxy: for you, it is your _life_."

Joker's eyes flared. The operative had done his assignment and he knew where to hit hardest. But still, he wasn't going to give in. "Are deaf? I said fuck off!"

"Not until we have convinced you to join us, Mr. Moreau," the operative retaliated sharply, "The Alliance have been foolish for dumping the best pilot in their ranks. But we, at Cerberus, will not go such sterling talent go to waste. Consider this, Mr. Moreau; we can give you a better future: a future that is much better than rotting in a dismal room like this."

The ex-Alliance helmsman hated the fact that the operative was right. After the _SSV Normandy _had been destroyed, the Alliance had grounded him for some unknown reason. And after being grounded, Joker felt he was cut away from everything that he valued. Flying a ship through the galaxies was the only life he had known—nothing else. He desperately wanted to fly again—that was his only way of showing the world that he was no different from them—despite of having brittle bones. In fact, he was better and far more productive member of the society.

Joker averted his eyes to the windows covered by Venetian blinds. He never thought that they had been talking for at least two and a half hours. The operative had been way too persistent in the recruitment. Cerberus was willing to give something that the Alliance had mercilessly taken away from him—and perhaps more, if he agreed to sign in. But at what cost? His moral side was battling with his pragmatic side. He didn't know what to choose.

_Damn, if Shepard was here..._

Joker's reminiscing came to an abrupt end. The very thought of Shepard shot a high-voltage wave of electricity down to his spine. If Shepard was here, then he was the one who was supposed to go down with the Normandy. If Shepard was here, then he was the one being mourned for. If Shepard was here, he had no problems like this. But sadly, Shepard wasn't with him. In fact, Shepard died because of him.

The operative broke the silence. "If flying isn't enough for you, Mr. Moreau, then walking may add some luster to the offer?"

The brittle-boned helmsman shot an angry glance at the shady figure. "Stop pulling my leg," he retorted, "Doctor Chakwas herself told me that not even our most-advanced medical tech can cure my Vrolik syndrome."

A sly grin came from the operative's lips. "We aren't talking anything about a cure," he said, "We are offering you heavy bone upgrades. With those, your legs can support your weight, enabling you to walk without crutches or braces somehow."

Joker felt his chest tightened. Though he was used to his "crippled-guy" lifestlye, he still wanted to walk without those damned apparatus. The operative really knew where to hit hardest. "I—no, shove those upgrades up to your boss' ass. I'm not going to work for some humanity-obsessed organization like Cerberus."

Even though that his room was dimly lit, Joker could see the evident displeasure etched on the operative's face. He shook his head mutely and took something inside his coat. The helmsman thought that the operative had finally given up and chose to put a bullet between his eyes instead. But to his surprise, the operative took out a datapad, punched a few codes and smiled.

"This is our last trump card. I hope this will convince you to join us," he said and handed him the datapad.

Joker looked at the image on the screen. "Well, who is this—WHAT THE HELL!" he screamed and threw the datapad to the wall upon seeing the image, "I don't know how desperate you are in your recruitment but let me make this clear: **I WON'T LET YOU RUIN HER MEMORY!**"

"Believe it or not, Mr. Moreau, but we have recovered Commander Shepard's body—what you see there is neither a clone nor a cyborg, but the real person. We, at Lazarus Cell, have committed ourselves in bringing the commander back to life."

"And what? Make her some puppet of yours, huh?" Joker shot back, knowing that the commander's influence would be a great asset to this organization. He and Shepard might not be the best of friends, but he could swear to anything that lived that he cared enough not to let them degrade her reputation. He wouldn't let her efforts get tainted by Cerberus.

"The Illusive Man doesn't permit us to put a control chip in her brain," the operative explained while picking up the datapad, "We'll restore her as exactly as she is when she defeated Saren Artemius"

Joker buried his face deep into his palms. A new ship, leg upgrades, and Shepard's life—his offers were too good to be true. He felt his defenses slowly slipped away. He really didn't want to be with these suspicious people but Cerberus was offering the things he lost— things that the Alliance couldn't give to him. _I wonder what will Shepard do _he mused. Probably, she would tell the operative to fuck off. But with those offers...

"According to Director Lawson, they have successfully recovered the commander's body," the operative said, "Cerberus has great plans for her: she will be the one to fight the Reapers. And we hope that you, Mr. Moreau, will be the one to pilot her ship."

_Just like the old times, huh?_

He slowly raised his head and looked at the operative in the eye. "Sign me in," he whispered.

The operative smiled. "Welcome to the Lazarus Cell, Mr. Jeff Moreau."

He didn't know if that was the right thing to do that time. He wasn't even sure if Cerberus would keep the other end of the bargain. But one thing was sure—he and Shepard would see each other again.


	2. Insomnia

**Chapter I:**

**Insomnia**

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><p><em>Love isn't when you can't sleep… it's when you want to keep your eyes open… <em>

_~Anonymous~_

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><p>"How are you feeling, Jeff?"<p>

Joker was relieved to hear a familiar voice in the strange facility. "My hips and legs are a bit stiff, but I guess I'll get used to it," he replied lightly and limped towards a chair nearby, "I'm glad you're with the guys who performed the surgery, Doctor Chakwas. I was afraid that the Cerberus surgeons will conduct lobotomy on me!"

The gray-haired doctor smiled. Even though her looks showed her real age, the good doctor's placid attitude always made her a bit younger. "I don't think they mean any harm. They're the ones who come looking for us after all," she gently reminded him while pulling out Joker's medical files out of the drawer, "Besides, I'm still your attending physician. I have to make sure what they're doing is correct."

"Aw, you don't really have to do that, doctor," Joker said while helping himself sit down.

"As a matter of fact, I _have _to," the physician said emphatically, "No one knows how to handle your disease more than I do."

Joker threw his arms in fake surrender. "Alright, if you say so, I'll shut up. It's hard to argue with someone who knows where to put the needles."

Two years had passed after his recruitment but still, the helmsman hadn't felt too comfortable in his new surroundings. New hallways, lights, facilities, and faces...he never got used to it. If there was anything familiar to him, it would be the pity looks from the other Cerberus crew. He was getting those "oh-look-at-that-poor-guy" stare from anyone who would see him wobbling around the corridors with his braces and crutches. He hated it; but at the back of his mind, he knew that it couldn't be avoided.

If weren't for Dr. Chakwas' presence, he'd already lost his mind. The strange atmosphere didn't suit him quite well. He knew nobody and nobody knew him. To them, he was just some poor, desperate, crippled guy who sought refuge in the pro-human organization. But thanks to the doctor's company, he could manage walking in the crowd.

"Have you heard any news about her?" Dr. Chakwas suddenly asked.

Joker's train of thoughts had been cut. "News? About who?"

"Commander Shepard."

The helmsman felt a huge lump in his throat. "I-I don't know," he tried to keep his voice steady, "Last time I heard, that Director Lawson is doing a good but slow job in fixing her."

"You don't seem too concerned."

Joker thought a missle just hit him. "It's not like that! It's just that—oh shit. Look: it's her fault, alright? I didn't ask her to save me. I didn't ask her to be left behind so she could haul me to the escape pod. I didn't ask her to do anything. She could do anything she wants but she still chose to...to..." he couldn't even finish the sentence.

Dr. Chakwas' look softened. "It's nobody's fault, Jeff," she whispered gently, "The commander did what any good leader would do."

"Yeah. She and her 'no-one-gets-left-behind' mantra," Joker said bitterly, "And yet, it seemed too easy for her to leave Ash die in Virmire."

"You don't know that."

"Hell, I don't need to know anything! You know how emotionless she was after that! Her _'best girl friend' _just died and she acted as if it's just business as usual."

"She knew she had to be strong that time," the doctor calmly explained, "She knew her priority—stop Saren."

"And she can't stop for awhile just to cry, hell yeah," the helmsman mumbled and put his palms on his face.

Dr. Chakwas looked at the distraught man. He had denied it many times but she knew that deep in his heart, he knew that Commander Shepard wasn't as bad as he thought she would be. He tried so hard to keep those feelings bottled up, hidden from the rest of the world, but she could see right through him. Being Jeff's attending physician for years had given her the advantage of knowing his real feelings in spite of his pretensions and snarky comments.

Going back to her business, the doctor casually tapped some keys on the medical datapad. "Do you sleep well, Jeff?" she casually asked.

"I can't sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Surer than any asshole in this facility."

Dr. Chakwas shook her head hopelessly. "Those eye-bags are getting worse. Even though your condition has been improved after the upgrades, it's still unwise to overexert yourself. Do you need some sleeping pills?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Since when did this happen?" the physician asked.

"Ever since I took the helm of the _Normandy_," Joker sarcastically replied, "The commander rarely let me get some nap back then; _'Must always be vigilant,'_ she used to tell me. And damn, whenever she catches me sleeping on duty, I could feel all hell unleashed on the bridge."

The doctor couldn't help but chuckle at the reply. She could remember those times also—and she had made it a point that she would prepare the leg braces and painkillers just in case Commander Shepard's rage went too far. "Jeff," she said while suppressing her laugh, "Seriously, you need to get some rest."

"But I can't even nod off to sleep now!"

"Then I'll make sure they'll supply the med bay with sleeping pills."

Joker shook his head and stood up. "No need, doc. I can manage."

"But Jeff—"

"Mr. Jeff Moreau," somebody at the intercom said, "The Illusive Man wants to speak with you."

"Yeah, coming…" Joker mumbled and gave a final look at Dr. Chakwas' worried look, "Don't worry, I'll take care of myself, I promise."

"I hope so, Jeff. I hope so…" Dr. Chakwas whispered as she watched the helmsman limped out of the room.

.

.

.

"What does that creepy guy want with me now?" Joker grumbled as he painfully tried to straighten his body while walking. In spite of his best efforts, he looked like some hunchbacked ass while limping down the dimly-lit hallways to the communication room. He was just lucky that it was past curfew time when he was summoned. At least only a few people could see his humorous walking pattern—step, crouch, hop, step, crouch, hop— with his left arm almost touching the ground like a gorilla.

Sure, Cerberus gave him some heavy bone and muscle weaves to reinforce his glassbones; but he never thought that balancing himself would be the _least_ of his problems. Everytime he tried to straighten himself while walking, he felt that every tendon and every muscle in the lower part of his body would be torn apart.

_Nobody said it would be perfect, though._ Joker sighed and pushed the button. The door slid open automatically, leading him into a spacious room with a huge circle etched at the center of the floor. Joker rolled his eyes, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped on the middle of the circle. Soon enough, rays of bluish green lights surronded him and an orange light scanned his body. After a while, a sitting figure wearing a stylish, black suit appeared in front of him with a cigarette stick on his right hand. Joker realized that he was already transmitting to The Illusive Man himself.

Joker never understood all those rituals. Ever since he had arrived at the station, he never met that smoke-belching guy in person, though he had been frequently summoned for a simple chat about Shepard and the Normandy. Others said that it was just some form of safety precaution. But what could a crippled pilot like him do to a man who almost had the whole galaxy on the palm of his hand?

"It has been quite some time since the surgeons performed the operation," the Illusive Man's casual voice interrupted his thoughts, "How are you feeling now, Mr. Moreau?"

Joker rolled his eyes. Why was everyone asking him about what he felt? "Shoulders sore, back's aching, knees stiff like hell, brain cries out to me to stop walking like an idiot on the loose—yeah, I've never felt any better than this before, sir."

The Illusive Man raised an eyebrow while he put the cigarette butt on the ashtray. "Pardon us for the inconveniece, Mr. Moreau. But is the first time our medical team has performed a cybernetic transplant on someone who has moderate to severe case of osteogenesis imperfecta," He paused to blow another puff of smoke from his newly-lit cigar, "I believe they've done their best not to break your bones while performing the sensitive task."

The Cerberus leader's calm, almost-apologetic voice, added with that icy cold stare from his strangely-patterned, steely-blue eyes sent shivers to Joker's system. He didn't know if the statement was supposed to calm him or to be wary of his surroundings. The Illusive Man's attitude was way too complex for him to understand completely. He was just glad that the man in front of him was just a hologram; then at least he could be sure that he wouldn't be shot on the spot.

"So, Mr. Moreau," The Illusive Man said, "I have some news that you may be interested with."

"Surprise me," Joker mumbled.

"Commander Shepard has awakened a few hours ago."

Joker thought his brain stopped working. "I—wait—what?"

The Illusive Man smiled slyly. "Director Lawson reported to me that she awoke while they were trying to conduct some tests on her. This awakening was untimely, yes, and they have to put her back into her sedated state to keep her stable."

Joker frowned. He thought that he would see another familiar face—a face that he wanted to see for a very long time. "So, that's the big news?" he said, obviously disappointed.

"At least we are making some huge progress after toiling hard for two years," the older man said, "I'm positive that you and Shepard will be sent out to the mission sometime this first quarter of the year."

Joker snorted. "Yeah sure, but how about the ship you guys promised?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, we can't just go hopping between star clusters using our legs, can we?"

"Ah, that one," The Illusive Man flatly said, obviously unamused at his humorous remark, "In due time, Mr. Moreau, you'll see the starship frigate you are going to pilot. Any more questions then?"

Joker was way too eager to get out of the room, away from the Illusive Man's steely gaze, to ask another question. "No sir, I'll just get going."

"Then you're dismissed," The Illusive Man said and vanished.

.

.

.

_Shepard's alive! _

Those two words convinced Joker that joining Cerberus was the right choice. But still, a number of questions still lingered in his mind. What were those idiots up to? What tests were they conducting on her? He couldn't help but worry. Though the Illusive Man told him a thousand times that the Shepard he knew would be brought back, Joker couldn't shake the feeling that they would alter her in someway.

Joker knew Shepard damned well after of almost two years of working closely with her in the _Normandy_. She might be the one who would sacrifice everything for the sake of the mission; but then he knew that Shepard would not co-operate with these ruthless people—especially when she had learned Cerberus' involvement in the tragic massacre at Akuze.

The helmsman's hand flinched as he tried to get his hot cup of coffee out of the dispenser, sightly scalding his fingers. Grunting, he grabbed the brewed coffee and limped away as normally as he could to the nearest, vacant table. Setting the hot cup of liquid directly in front of him, Joker fixed his eyes on the faint smoke rising out of the coffee. His focus was too direct that he barely even noticed that a blithe figure appeared in front of him.

"You must be Mr. Moreau, am I right?"

The pleasant tone made him look up only to get greeted by a pair of doe-like green eyes. Joker blinked. Why would anyone give a damn about him? Besides, the way she said 'Mr. Moreau' sent high-voltage electric current to his system. He knew that he and formality never mixed so well. "Yeah, that's me," he took a sip from his coffee, "But I'll _really_ feel _so_ much better if you people will just call me Joker."

"Of course, Joker,"

Joker rolled his eyes, "Sure, that felt great, thanks," he said. His remark was _not_ supposed to be friendly. But why was that strawberry-blonde haired girl wearing an old-fashioned hairstyle still standing in front of him with that big grin plastered on her face? Her facial expression was starting to unnerve him; and he had to do something to debuff her _fast_.

Joker sighed. "There are no cookies here. What do you want?" he asked and took another sip.

"I heard that you and the famous Commander Shepard are very close."

The helmsman spit out the coffee in his mouth. "Shepard and I are _what_?"

"You worked with the most famous human out there in the galaxy."

"You mean: _Most Notorious_."

"I heard that not all people like the Commander. But still, she saved a lot of people from Sovereign's attack on the Citadel."

Joker leaned back on his chair and sighed. "Okay, okay, you win. I worked with her. Now what? Why do you care?"

The woman smiled and sat on the chair in front of him. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kelly Chambers—I'll be the yeoman for Commander Shepard."

Joker couldn't believe what his ears had heard. "Yeoman?" he snorted, "Dunno but, I don't think she's gonna like the idea of having an assistant. She's very independent—not to mention her very private nature. And I don't think things will run smoothly in the ship when she finds out somebody's snooping around her e-mails."

Chambers let out a soft but terrified gasp; but her disturbed expression only lasted for a minute, then it reverted to her calm disposition. "Y-yes," she stuttered, "but I'm sure that she'll get used to my presence. Besides, my job is not only to sit all day and wait for new messages to come…"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh…" Joker nodded his head, trying in vain to enjoy the remnants of his brewed coffee while passively listening to the "duties and responsibilities" of a yeoman and other Cerberus stuff. Why was she telling all these stuff to him anyway?

"Though it's such a pity that…she—_ditladithadugyth_…"

He shook his head briskly."What did you say?" he asked. Suddenly, his vision became blurry and before he knew it, he heard a loud crash underneath him followed by a hot, almost scalding, feeling on his legs.

"Oh my, Joker, is everything ok?" the yeoman stood up to go to his side.

Joker shook his head vigorously. "Uh, yes—I mean no— I, uh, shit…I gotta go," he mumbled and walked out of the scene as fast as his fragile bones could take him.

"Shit, what just happened?" Joker muttered. His head felt numb and he could even barely walk in a straight line. The corridor suddenly became blurry and the next thing he knew, there were two hallways in front of him. Feeling nauseous, he reached for the nearest wall and leaned against it. His stomach lurched violently that he almost threw up the remnants of the coffee that he drank a few minutes ago.

Collecting his strength, the helmsman used his arm to pull himself up; but instead he lost his grip, muttered a few curses midair, and passed out even before he hit the ground.

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><p>Karin Chakwas furrowed her eyebrows as she scanned the datapad. She knew that Jeff had the tendency to pretend that everything seemed to be alright but not to the extent of putting his health in grave danger. The data she acquired told her everything: what happened to him was neither a random accident nor a side effect of the bone upgrades—the cause was something simpler; and she couldn't believe that even someone like Jeff would be affected with.<p>

"N-no, wait, it's not fair," Jeff mumbled.

The doctor shook her head and looked at the unconscious helmsman. Traces of stress and fatigue were all over his system. He slept as if he hadn't taken even a short nap for years. The helmsman tossed his head sideways and grunted heavily occasionally. Sometimes, he even raised his hands as if he wanted to reach somebody. Beads of perspiration started to form on his forehead. His dry lips moved incessantly yet no sound came from his mouth. His distorted facial expression revealed a painful picture of whatever nightmare he was experiencing that time.

Moving quickly, the doctor reached for a syringe filled with tranquilizer and carefully struck it to the helmsman's arm. After a few minutes, the man calmed down and rested peacefully.

"Will he be okay?" a concerned voice asked behind her.

Karin breathed in deeply. "Let's hope for the best, Ms. Chambers. The trauma he experienced was horrendous; and I still have a few questions for him when he wakes up."

Chambers lowered her eyes and looked at the sedated helmsman. "It must've been tough for him to—you know—the assault."

Karin gently smiled. "Seems like you did your homework…"

"As the one who takes care of the crews' psychological state, I have to know about them as much as I can."

The doctor nodded. "I see. I hope that Commander Shepard will appreciate your efforts," she sighed, "Thank you for bringing him here, Ms. Chambers."

"You're welcome. I hope he gets well by the time the commander returns," Chambers smiled and left the Medical Bay.

Karin gave another sigh and studied the information on the datapad. She still couldn't believe that Jeff would tell her that he was just fine when in reality, he wasn't. She silently hoped that by the time the sedatives lost its effect, he could say a good reason for lying to his physician.

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><p>"Uhhhh…what just happened?" Joker groaned as he tried to get up from where he was.<p>

"You passed out and slept for almost five days," a familiar, stern voice came beside him.

Joker blinked. "I…what?" he asked, "Last time I know I was just drinking coffee while trying to look interested to whatever the yeoman was—"

Doctor Chakwas' serious façade shut his mouth tight. Her crossed arms, razor sharp glare, and a deep frown told him one thing: he was so fucked up.

"Tell me Jeff," the doctor said slowly, "why haven't you been sleeping for the past few weeks?"

Joker's heartbeat raced. "Because I can't sleep?" he tried to keep his voice light, "You know, it had something to do with my job—"

"Jeff…" the doctor's eyes narrowed.

"Remember when Commander Shepard used to play loud songs over the intercom just to keep us awake—"

"I remember that she only did that once—and never did it again," Dr. Chakwas' eyebrows almost crossed.

Joker found himself gasping for breath. "Well doc, it's really—"

"You haven't slept on purpose, have you?"

"W-what? Why should I do that?" Joker said, trying to avert his eyes on the doctor's serious gaze.

"I don't know. You tell me."

After a minute of silence, Joker sighed in defeat and looked at the window. "Alright doc, you win. I'm drinking coffee to keep myself awake."

Dr. Chakwas shook her head. "But at least it's not a severe case of insomnia, though," she whispered, "But Jeff, what you did is severely _dangerous._ Side effects may come if you let your immune system so down by drowning yourself in large volumes of caffeine. You _seriously_ need an eight-hour bed rest."

Joker half rose from the edge of the bed. "But I can't just sleep knowing that Commander Shepard's being used as a guinea pig somewhere out there!"

Dr. Chakwas blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

"It's…I…forget it," Joker whispered, jumped out of the bed, and limped away.

"Jeff, I'm not yet—"

"I'm sorry, doc," Joker said, "It's a bit….complicatied."

Before the doctor could say another word, the sliding doors of the sick bay already closed behind Joker.

_She just won't understand it_. Joker said to himself; although pangs of guilt had already been chewing him out for lying to the woman who had concern for him. For so many years, Dr. Chakwas had been the one who helped him get through his Vrolik's. He'd never told anyone, but he might not have got through life without the good doctor by his side. Lying to her about his condition was probably the worst crime he could do to the doctor—but relaxing and sleeping soundly while the one who had saved his life was in jeopardy was a far worse evil he could do.

He needed to be sure that Cerberus would hold the other end of the bargain; and the only way he could do that was to check up on her every second he got. Shepard had already awakened but was put back to sleep because they were still conducting tests on her. What for? What were they doing to her? The Illusive Man's sentence was enough to give him doubts on "restoring her as exactly as she was…"

Joker found himself in an empty mess hall. At least no one was there to ask what the fuck just happened to him. He grinned and walked towards the coffee dispenser. To his luck, there was still enough hot brewed coffee left to fill a cup. The doctor already warned him about the coffee but still, he couldn't help it—as long as Shepard was lying in a bed, being studied by numerous scientists.

The aroma of the brewed coffee lingered in his nose—nice way of keeping him awake for a few more hours. Next stop would be the Communication Room—the place where he could get some gossip on what was going on to the Lazarus Research Station. News about the commander's progress was scarce but it was worth the wait. Now that she was starting to wake up, seeing her would probably the next event.

He barely got inside the room when he noticed that almost all the personnel in that room crowded the central panel. Curious, he hobbled his way through the crowd to get near to the panel.

"_Lazarus to Minuteman: we are being under attack by our OWN security mechs! Everything is out of control: requesting assistance ASAP!"_

Joker froze in his tracks. The surroundings all went in slow motion. His hand felt numb and lost grasp on the paper cup he was holding. He heard the cup crash down, splashing the hot liquid on his boots; but he gave no reaction to it. His heart pounded viciously on the walls of his chest and beads of perspiration slid from his forehead to his chin. He could see the people look at him with disdain, but he didn't care.

"Mr. Moreau, what are you doing here?"

Joker blinked. "L-Lazarus? Is that the place where Shepard—"

"Yes," replied one of the Cerberus people, "that is where the commander is held."

"Then what the fuck are we doing in here?" Joker said, "The station's under attack, right?"

"We are confident that Director Lawson can handle the situ—"

Joker vehemently threw his hands in the air. "Are you guys fucking deaf?" he screamed, "The whole situation is out-of-control! The mechs are killing everybody. What _else_ do you need to hear before you get your asses moving?"

"It'll be better if you'll just calm down and let her handle this."

"_Calm down_? You expect me to _calm down_? What the shit, Shepard's in there—asleep!"

"We cannot do anything but hope that—"

"FUCK THAT REASONING! I didn't sign up just to see her die again!" Joker roared and slammed his fist on the wall. He felt the bones on his arm crack but he didn't care—he was too angry to care, "You guys said you can bring her back and now you're— damn it, what did you just…" a sharp pain came from his shoulder. Joker tried to look over his shoulder but his muscles felt so weak that he couldn't even move. He didn't know who or what but his vision suddenly become blurry and everything was swallowed into nothingness.

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><p><em>AN: I'm really sorry for not updating for the last few months. I just got too excited for ME3 that I forgot to write. And now, I'm still recovering for my "post-ME3 depression" for you-know-what. And for the people who alerted and reviewed last chapter... THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I hope you'll continue reading. As always, reviews are very much appreciated. :)_


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